


Imagine

by Fangirlwriting



Series: Creative Trade [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Character Swap, And Remus is A Light Side, Basically Roman And Remus Switch Places, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders is Extra, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Angst, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Needs a Hug, Gen, Kid Sides (Sanders Sides), So Roman is A Dark Side
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:15:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27271039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirlwriting/pseuds/Fangirlwriting
Summary: When Thomas was a kid, things were less put together.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders
Series: Creative Trade [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1991227
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40





	Imagine

**Author's Note:**

> This whole series is mainly just me playing around with a random idea I had of Roman being a dark side from the beginning and Remus being the main creativity from the beginning. It's probably just going to be a bunch of one-shots in no particular order, unless I get super inspired about something or anyone wants a particular story (feel free to comment if you do).

“Hey, hey Patton.”

Patton immediately tensed from his spot at the table. He gripped his fork a little tighter and tried not to sound angry as he replied. “Yes, Remus?”

“Imagine if the main character’s puppy died—”

“Remus!” Patton snapped instantly, dropping the fork on the table and glaring at the creative side across from him. “No!”

“Are you two still fighting over this?” Logan asked as he set down his own fork with a sigh. “It is not a productive way to spend time, and this assignment is due tomorrow.”

“The puppy doesn’t have to die, Logan!” Patton said. “He’s making the story sad for no reason!” He paused. “What does productive mean?”

“It’s not for no reason,” Remus protested.

“Everything you do is for no reason,” Patton said, crossing his arms.

“But if the puppy doesn’t die, it ruins the end of the story!”

“The end of the story doesn’t have to be a puppy funeral if the puppy doesn’t die!” Patton exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

“But the puppy funeral is  _ important! _ The whole point of the story is the main character is too happy!”

“There’s no such thing as too happy!”

“Enough!” Logan stood up. “This is highly unproductive and not what we need to talk about at the dinner table. If you two cannot speak about something else, perhaps I will go eat in another room.”

“No, Logan, wait, I’m sorry,” Patton said instantly.

“I’m not,” Remus piped up.

“If you two cannot reach some sort of agreement before tomorrow we won’t have a completed story to turn in,” Logan said, sitting back down. “And then Thomas will get a bad grade on the assignment which will lower his grade in the class.”

Patton muttered something angrily about puppies and crossed his arms, refusing to back down. They finished the dinner in silence, after which Logan muttered something about how pointless it was to fight with Creativity and Morality and walked off towards his room. Patton sighed and headed back to his own room, ignoring Remus as he walked past him on the way.

He wasn’t going to let Remus write about a puppy dying! It was sad, and the way the puppy dies is completely inappropriate, and… and why did Remus want to write about it anyway? Who wanted to think about a nice, sweet little puppy dying? On purpose?

Patton eventually decided it didn’t matter if Thomas got a bad grade, he wasn’t backing down.

But apparently, it looked like he wouldn’t have to, because sometime later that night, about an hour before bedtime, a knock came from his door, and he opened it to find Remus and Logan, Logan looking satisfied and Remus looking very unsatisfied.

“Remus has agreed to a compromise,” Logan said. “He will write about the puppy getting injured, but it won’t have to die.”

Patton looked over at Remus, who was glowering at his shoes. “No,” he said firmly. “The puppy doesn’t get hurt.”

“Patton, you’re being unreasonable,” Logan said. “Thomas needs to finish this assignment.”

“Not by hurting a sweet innocent little puppy he doesn’t,” Patton insisted.

“Fine then!” Remus snapped, glaring back up at Patton. “I’ll kill it! I’ll kill it and there’s nothing you can do about it!” He ran off before Patton could reply in any way.

The next day Thomas’ teacher told him the story was a little too dark for what she’d had in mind. Patton wasn’t mean enough to say “I told you so,” but he did look very pointedly at Remus.

…

“VIRGIL!”

Virgil barely had time to jump before he was tackled to the ground. He hissed and squirmed, trying to shove the assaulter off of him, but only succeeding in getting partway out from under him while his leg was still caught between a pair of arms.

“Let go of me!” he cried, grabbing onto the nearby chair leg. “Let go!”

“Never! You’re the mean monster under the bed, I have to defeat you!”

“ROMAN!” Virgil snapped, kicking at the creative side’s face. “GET OFF!”

“Alright, what exactly is going on here?”

Both of the currently fighting sides froze at the new voice, and looked over to see Janus emerging from the kitchen.

“I was in the middle of making ice cream for dinner,” Janus said, crossing his arms. “Do you two have to bicker so loudly?”

“Sorry, Janus,” Virgil mumbled.

“Sorry Janus,” Roman said in a certainly much less sorry tone. “But Virgil was the monster under the bed! I had to defeat him.”

“If anything, you’re the monster under the bed,” Virgil said, whacking Roman on the arm.

Janus sighed. “I will take away the sprinkles,” he warned.

“You’re not my dad!” Roman proclaimed. “You’re the same age as us!”

“Alright, no sprinkles then,” Janus said, turning around and walking back into the kitchen.

Roman’s face paled in horror, clearly not having expected Janus to follow through on the threat. “No, no, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I want sprinkles!”

The three of them often spent their meals in front of a movie, which one it was depending on who got to pick. On Roman and Virgil’s nights, they watched Disney, as they both liked the movies for very different reasons. Janus usually picked a deep philosophical movie that he refused to let either of them fall asleep for, because he stayed up for their “boring kid films” so they had to stay up too.

Tonight, unfortunately, was Janus’ turn, and so Virgil and Roman spent the time after they finished their ice cream fidgeting and whispering to themselves. Normally it would be each other, but both were still a little ticked off at each other for earlier.

“You almost cost us our sprinkles,” Roman hissed at Virgil during a particularly dull scene.

“No, you did,” Virgil whispered back. “You know I don’t like monster hunt.”

“But it’s so fun!” Roman protested, a little louder than he probably should have.

“Hey!” Janus snapped. “I never talk during your movies!”

“No, but we do,” Virgil mumbled. They did often have debates as to what the true theme of the movie they’d chosen was.

“Yes, and I respect that. Please respect my rules.”

Virgil huffed and leaned back against the couch. “It’s scary,” he whispered to Roman.

“It’s  _ exciting.” _

“Maybe to you.”

Roman gave an irritated sigh of his own but didn’t say anything else.

The end of the movie came around, and Virgil was bored out of his mind and just wanted to go to bed, but Roman grabbed his arm before he could do so. “Can I show you something?” he asked.

Virgil turned warily around. “What?”

“In the imagination.”

“Roman, I don’t want to fight any monsters.”

“No monsters,” Roman said, raising up his right hand. “Prince’s honor.”

Virgil sighed. “Okay.”

“Fantastic!” Before Virgil could react, Roman scooped him up and tossed him into the air, ignoring Virgil’s startled cry as he landed on his back piggy-back style, and started sprinting for the imagination.

“Roman!” Virgil screamed, wrapping his arms around Roman’s shoulders and shutting his eyes tightly. “Stop running!”

“Okay, here we go!” Roman leapt into the air, and Virgil braced himself, but they didn’t come back down. “Open your eyes,” Roman whispered.

Virgil did, hesitantly, and yelped, immediately grabbing tighter onto Roman’s back. “Why aren’t we falling?!”

“Wings!” Roman said happily.

Virgil looked to the side, past the stars in the sky all around them, and saw a pair of large red wings on Roman’s back, flying them through the air.

“See?” Roman said. “Being high up would normally be scary, but the wings can make it exciting! Just like fighting monsters can be exciting if you know there’s not any danger.”

Virgil looked up to the stars above them, and spotted the constellations that Thomas had heard about in school, ursa major and ursa minor.

“Do you want wings too?” Roman asked suddenly, and Virgil looked down at him.

“I’m not Creativity, I can’t make wings,” he pointed out.

“You can in the imagination!” Roman exclaimed. “Anyone can do anything in here!”

“I don’t—”

“Virgil, come on,” Roman said. “Imagine you have wings.”

Virgil still wasn’t sure about this, but he hesitantly closed his eyes and pictured wings. A second later, he felt something new appear on his back, and opened his eyes in surprise to see large purple feathered wings.

“You did it!” Roman called happily. “Come on, flap them! Let’s race!”

“No racing!” Virgil said instantly. “But… okay.”

He hesitantly tried moving the wings, and as soon as he thought about it, they started flapping, and he rose higher into the air above Roman. He made sure to stay above Roman, just in case he fell, but slowly rose higher in the air.

“Wow, you’re awesome!” Roman said, flipping over in the air so he was belly-up. “You want to go fly up to the constellations?”

“We can do that?” Virgil asked in surprise.

“It’s the imagination, remember! We can do anything we can imagine!”

Virgil smiled a little. “Okay,” he said finally. “Let’s do it.”


End file.
